Love in Small Steps
by mmouse15
Summary: A series of events in the life and relationship between Jazz and Prowl. Story is rated for later chapters.
1. The Blanket

Title: The Blanket (Velvet)

Series: Love in Small Steps

By: mmouse15

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2200

Pairing: ProwlxJazz

Author's Notes: As an example of what this looks like, check out the link on my profile.

This is entry #1 for the May 08 challenge on the ProwlxJazz comm on LJ.

Disclaimers: The toys don't belong to me, they belong to Hasbro, Takara, IDW and lots of other corporate entities that are not me. I'll put them back when I'm done playing…

Prowl drove back to the Ark, puzzled with the gift that had been pressed upon him by a grateful resident. He was happy to assist the town with problems, and his familiar police symbols allowed people to view him as a figure of authority without being frightened. The presence of the Autobots was still new to the world and adaptations were occurring from both Prime's troops and the humans they came into contact with. He turned onto the dirt road that led to the Ark and quickly decided that mud was worse than dust. At least the dust was surficial, but mud got everywhere. He pulled up to the Ark and sat there, trying to decide if he could remove the gift from his passenger compartment without getting mud all over it.

"Hey, Prowl, what…holy Primus, what happened to you?" Jazz's cheerful voice deepened to concern when he saw the condition of the Ark's resident tactician.

"Oh, Jazz, good. Could you assist me?" Prowl was relieved, here was the answer to his dilemma.

"Um, sure, Prowl, what do you need?" Jazz moved closer.

"Would you please open my passenger door and remove the package from the seat, and please try to do so without getting mud all over it?"

"Sure, Prowl." Jazz suited actions to words, carefully opening Prowl's door and grasping the package, then stepping well back so Prowl could transform.

"Ugh, I think that's worse." Prowl growled as he transformed and the mud that had been on the outside of his alt form was moved to the inside. "We shall have to plan for this if there is going to continue to be mud."

"Uh, yeah, Prowl, there's going to be mud. Maybe we could rig up a wash near the entrance that would remove the mud before transforming?" Jazz answered.

"Or we could put gravel down the road leading to the entrance so that mud would wash off in the rain?" Prowl thought aloud.

"Well, for right now, you need to get clean," the saboteur told him. "I'll take this down to the common room and you can get it from me when you're clean. Deal?"

"Yes, thank you Jazz," the tactician answered, already moving to the wash racks. Mud itched!

Clean, dry and much happier, Prowl headed toward the common room. He needed to collect his package from Jazz and get some energon. He was feeling pretty low on fuel after his exertions. He entered the room and headed for the dispenser. After filling a cube with the swirling pink potion, he turned. Jazz was sitting at a table in the corner, his own half-filled cube beside him, and Prowl's package on the table. Jazz was gently poking the package.

"Open it." The Porsche jumped at the tactician's command.

"What?"

"Open it. Perhaps you can help me decide what to do with it." Prowl settled next to him, taking a long draught of energon and feeling the warmth of fuel run through his systems.

Jazz looked at him, and Prowl motioned to the package. Turning his attention to the wrappings, Jazz puzzled out the brown paper and twine that sealed the gift. Carefully cutting the string and removing it, Jazz then unwrapped the paper.

"Oh!" exclaimed Jazz.

Prowl said nothing, merely watched as Jazz pulled out the velvet tie dyed blanket that had been pressed upon him. Jazz unfolded it, revealing the myriad colours and patterns that flowed over the fabric. Jazz drew the cloth between his fingers, draping it over his shoulder and handing a section to Prowl so that he could see more of the blanket.

"What is this for?" Jazz finally asked.

"I don't know. I was helping in the city with a collapsed bridge, and a woman gave this to me as a reward. She said that I had saved her livelihood and this was the least she could do. I don't understand," Prowl explained.

"Her livelihood is how she makes money to live, Prowl. Were there shops nearby?"

"Oh. Yes, there were, and I made a barrier so they would not flood."

"There ya are. This is nice, Prowl. What are you going to do with it?" Jazz drew his fingers over the cloth once more then started to fold the blanket.

"I don't know." Prowl returned, finishing his cube and accepting the blanket from Jazz.

"Hm. Well, I need to get back to it. Later, Prowl." Scooping up both cubes to return them, Jazz left.

Prowl sat for a while after Jazz had gone. He touched the blanket, feeling the softness and tracing the patterns on the fabric, marveling at the way his fingers left tracings on the material. It had been…pleasurable…watching Jazz enjoy the material. He was quivering inside with unnamed feelings. Ever since they had been awoken from the long stasis they had been in, he felt that his world had been turned upside down. The Autobots and the Decepticons had quickly started following an unmentioned truce, both sides realizing that they needed to preserve the resources they had if they wished to return to their home. The reprieve had allowed Prowl time to think about things other than the war. He had started to relearn his fellow soldiers and to see how the war had changed them. To his surprise, Jazz had caught his attention in a way he had never felt before. There were…feelings…attached to the saboteur that Prowl did not understand and that made him uncomfortable. Frustrated, he got up and headed to his quarters for some necessary recharge.

On his way to the living section of the Ark, he heard raised voices. Deciding that it was his responsibility to stop the noise before other mechs were disturbed, he turned down the hallway from whence the voices emanated.

"…and what you don't seem to realize is that what you're doing with him DOES affect me." Prowl heard as he got closer.

"Yeah, but I'm not stopping just because you don't like it." Ah, that was Sideswipe. The other voice probably belonged to Sunstreaker. Yes, it did.

"Then close off the bond. I don't want to feel everything you do with him." Sunstreaker broke off as Prowl came around the corner. He looked up at the warrior Lamborghinis, observing quickly that they were not touching, merely that Sunstreaker was looming over Sideswipe, who did not look intimidated at all.

"Gentlemechs. This personal business should be dealt with in the privacy of your quarters and not in the hallway where you disturb other mechs attempting to recharge."

The yellow twin stood straight, sending a speaking glance to his brother before addressing the tactician. "Yes, sir, but unfortunately, I can't go to our quarters. Sides here, " a glare at his twin, "has moved someone else in and I don't have a quiet place to recharge."

Prowl was taken aback. He hadn't known that Sideswipe was in a relationship. "Sideswipe? Is this true?"

Sides returned his brother's glare then answered Prowl. "Yes, it is, except that I'm not keeping him out of our quarters, he's keeping himself out."

"I don't want to hear what you do with him, I don't want to be in the same room while you do it to him, I just want to recharge!" returned Sunstreaker.

"Well, just because you scare the Spark out of everyone doesn't mean that I do…"

"Stop." Prowl's voice cut across Sideswipe's retort. "Sunstreaker, please come with me. Sideswipe, return to your quarters."

The twins exchanged a speaking glance and moved to do as Prowl ordered. The tactician turned on his heel and started moving toward his own quarters. Sunstreaker obediently followed.

"There are empty quarters here, Sunstreaker. Next time this happens, if there is a next time, please come to me immediately. It is part of my duties to make sure everyone is quartered well and has a safe place to recharge." Prowl stopped at a door in the middle of the hallway and typed in a code, then another. He stepped aside and Sunstreaker entered a code into the pad. The rooms now belonged to Sunstreaker and he had just input his own code for the doors. Prowl nodded as the door opened and the lights came on. "Recharge well, Sunstreaker."

The yellow twin moved into the room, then turned back. "Wait. Prowl, how long will I have these quarters?"

Prowl looked at him. "As long as you need. Sideswipe's affairs don't seem to last long, and if you wish, you may move back into your shared quarters. Just let me know."

Sunstreaker looked uncomfortable. "What if…what if I never go back?"

"That is your concern." Prowl realized that the Lamborghini was uncomfortable. He stepped forward and lowered his voice. "Is there something wrong, Sunstreaker?"

Sunny tipped his head back. "This is different. He's never let this stuff bleed into our bond before. I think…he really loves…"

"Love?" Whispered Prowl.

"Yeah. He's never cared more for someone else than he does for me, and this time…it's different. It hurts, Prowl. I'm no longer the most important person to Sides. How am I supposed to feel?"

"I don't know, Sunstreaker. Let's…let's talk tomorrow, after we've recharged, alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Prowl."

"You're welcome." Prowl backed out of the room and turned toward his own door. Love. Was that what love was, a feeling that made one person more important that everyone else? He brought the blanket out, fingering the fabric and looking down the hall. Making up his mind, he set forth.

Prowl knocked on the door. A voice answered him and he waited until the door opened.

"Prowl? What can I do for ya?" Jazz was surprised to see him.

"May I come in? I have a question for you." Prowl asked.

"Sure, c'mon in." Jazzed stepped aside and motioned for Prowl to enter. "What's on your processor?"

"I ran into the twins, and they raised some questions that happen to coincide with my own thoughts. I had hoped that you could help me clarify some points if you have the time."

"Sure, Prowl, I'm all yours." Jazz offered his chair to Prowl and sprawled on his berth. Prowl sat, clasping his hands in his lap. After long moments of silence, Jazz straightened and asked, "Prowl?"

"I…have developed feelings for someone. How does one go about telling someone else that they…might…that it's possible…?"

Jazz very slowly sat up completely and moved off the berth, stopping before Prowl and sinking to his knees in front of the Datsun. "You…have feelings for someone?"

"Yes," whispered Prowl.

"Someone here? Someone I know?"

"Yes."

Jazz bowed his head. "Ya…you just tell them, Prowl. You need to let them know."

"What if they don't return my feelings?" Prowl blurted his biggest concern.

"Then you know. If you don't know, you're always left hanging. If you do know, you can move on."

Prowl thought about that advice. He took a deep draught of air and released it, cooling his systems. "Of course, you are correct. Thank you Jazz."

Jazz stood and moved back, still looking at the floor. He muttered something quietly, and Prowl blessed his own acute audios. Jazz had said, "And then, if they reject you, maybe I can have a chance." A quiver ran through Prowl's systems at that exposure of Jazz's own feelings. Perhaps this wouldn't be as difficult as he'd imagined…

Prowl moved toward the door, Jazz following, but stopped before the door cycled open. "Oh, by the way, I've decided what to do with the blanket."

"Oh? What's that?" Jazz was subdued.

Prowl turned fully to him then put his hands on the saboteur's shoulders, draping the blanket around him. "I'm going to wrap you in it and kiss you senseless," and he moved to kiss Jazz. The Porsche seemed frozen in place for several seconds, but then responded beautifully, flowing against the Datsun and returning the kiss with fervor.

"You, Jazz. I've feelings for you. Will you help me?" Prowl muttered between kisses.

"Oh, Primus, Prowl. Yes!" The blanket slid under Prowl's hands, caressing Jazz's sensitive metal skin and adding to the stimulus of having Prowl in his arms. After several minutes of kisses, Prowl broke away but rested his forehead against Jazz's, trying to cool his systems.

"Prowl? Will ya…will ya spend the night with me?" Jazz was tentative. "Just recharge. I'd like to wake up with you…"

Prowl brushed a kiss across Jazz's lips. "I'd like that…"

Jazz moved to dim the lights, moving toward the berth with the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. He crawled onto the berth and moved against the wall. Prowl came over and laid down beside him, wrapping an arm around him and feeling the blanket slide against him. Jazz groaned and Prowl froze.

"Don't. I…" Jazz shuddered then continued. "That feels so good. I'll never get into recharge if you keep that up."

Prowl nodded and brushed a final kiss over Jazz's lips. "Then I'll stop. Recharge now."

They settled comfortably, both falling quickly into a deep and healing recharge. Tomorrow was another day.


	2. The Surprise

Title: The Surprise (Silk)

Series: Love in Small Steps

By: mmouse15

Rating: T

Word Count: 2100

Pairing: ProwlxJazz

Author's Notes: This is entry #2 for the May 08 challenge on the ProwlxJazz comm on LJ.

Disclaimers: They still don't belong to me…

Jazz walked down the hallway quickly. He was eager to get back to the wash racks after his patrol and get clean. He and Prowl had a date tonight and Jazz was anticipating the quiet hours together. His relationship with Prowl was progressing nicely, he felt, and while he was eager to leap forward Prowl was more reticent. Part of the enjoyment had come from holding back, letting Prowl adjust to the new facets of love then pushing forward again. Tonight Jazz wanted to push the boundaries again. He entered the wash racks, exchanging greetings with Bluestreak and Trailbreaker who had also returned from patrols. The three mechs scrubbed off the dust and dirt, Jazz helping Trailbreaker get a fist sized rock out from his wheel well. Bluestreak returned the favor, helping Jazz pull out some greenery from under his bumper, which necessitate Jazz partially transforming while the leaves and branches were removed. Clean at last, the three went their separate ways, Jazz shaking his head as Sideswipe ambushed Bluestreak just outside the wash room. He hope that situation would get resolved sooner rather than later, since it was getting uncomfortable to go out to a battle with the twins not speaking to each other. Turning part of his processor to the problem, he continued to the officer's quarters. Prowl would be joining him when his shift was over and Jazz wanted to tidy his quarters again.

Prowl finished briefing Hound, then left the control room. He detoured to Optimus' office, leaving the datapads he'd promised their leader then moving to the security room. Once he felt he was finished, he left the working area of the Ark and headed for the private section. The dates he and Jazz had started were, he knew, a way to ease his discomfort with their new relationship, but he had to admit the idea was worthy. He made a mental note to thank Spike the next time he saw him. He stopped in his quarters to put a shine to his finish and gather up the movie that had been recommended to him by Carly. Glancing around, he dimmed the lights and left, moving towards Jazz's quarters.

Jazz welcomed Prowl into the room. He had rearranged a few weeks ago, moving the desk out and a comfortable set of chairs in, along with an entertainment system for movies and music. He ushered Prowl to a chair, then sat facing Prowl in his own chair. Prowl set the movie down on the table between them and looked askance at his love. Jazz was fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable.

"Jazz? What's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong, exactly." The Porsche catapulted himself out of the chair and knelt in front of Prowl, reaching for his hands. "You know that I love you, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you know that I will always love you, no matter what happens?"

"Jazz, you can't predict the future." Prowl protested.

"I'm not. I will always love you, even if this doesn't work out. You'll always be a part of my Spark. You matter, Prowl, and you always will."

Prowl squirmed in his chair, uncomfortable with the depth of the emotion in Jazz's voice. This was the crux of the matter. Jazz was comfortable loving Prowl, willing to give him everything he was and more, whereas Prowl wanted certainty, a guarantee that their love would work before he committed everything. So far, they had moved at Prowl's pace, but Jazz now wanted to move a little bit faster.

"Do you trust me, Prowl?" Jazz asked his question, his pump working a bit harder as he waited.

Prowl considered the matter, his thumbs unconsciously rubbing along the backs of Jazz's hands. Finally, he answered, "Yes, I trust you."

Jazz sighed. "Good. Will you let me try something with you?"

"That depends upon the request…" Prowl trailed off. The saboteur was gazing at him levelly.

"I promise that it won't be painful, that you can stop it at any time, and that I will not push you too far past your boundaries." Jazz promised.

"That means that you will push, though." Prowl protested.

"Yes. It does." Jazz held his optics.

Prowl dropped his, looking instead at their hands. Jazz had such wonderful hands, strong yet deft. He was such a tactile person, constantly touching the people he was with, stroking any objects within his reach, never still. It had taken Prowl time to adjust to Jazz's touches after they'd awoken from stasis. Before that, they had not spent enough time together for Prowl to have been affected by Jazz. Now, however, Jazz touched everyone, and hand gliding along a forearm, a touch to a shoulder, a stroke to the back of a hand. Everyone else seemed to have adapted quickly, but Jazz's touches still sent Prowl's processor into a flurry of interrupted routines. His touches were never overt, never unwelcomed, but always stunning to the conservative tactician. Deciding that, yes, Jazz was going to push anyway, Prowl looked back up at him.

"Alright, Jazz, but I reserve the right to call this off at any point."

"Of course, Prowl." Jazz gracefully arose from his kneeling position and moved behind Prowl. "Now, I want you to shutter your optics." He waited until Prowl had done so then laid a hand on Prowl's cheek. "I'm going to blindfold you. Ready?" Prowl nodded, his pumps stuttering. "Here we go." The blindfold was of some slippery material, wonderfully soft and silky. Jazz wound the length of fabric around Prowl's head and knotted it behind him. "Can you see anything?" Prowl unshuttered his optics and found that the blindfold covered him from the base of his nose up to his optic ridges and quite effectively blocked all light from entering his optics. He shook his head and Jazz responded, "Good. Here's the deal. You need to get used to my touching you. I'm just going to touch. Nothing more, nothing bad. Just touch and my voice, alright?"

Prowl nodded.

Jazz stroked his hand firmly over Prowl's arm. Prowl froze then shuddered. Jazz murmured in his audio, "Such a reaction, Prowl. Why?"

"You…that…it feels so good."

"Just me, or would anyone feel this good?" Jazz continued to move up Prowl's arm to his shoulder. "Other hand now," and his other hand was laid on Prowl's other shoulder. Jazz used both hands to stroke over Prowl's shoulder armor, then dipped below the armor and started working kinks out of the cabling and wires below the armor. Prowl groaned as tension he hadn't even noticed was rubbed away. Jazz spoke again, quietly, "Would anyone feel this good?"

Prowl shook his head, "No, no, only you…"

"Good. That's good. How does this feel?" The Porsche moved his hands lower on Prowl's back, rubbing the cables and struts that attached his legs to his torso. Prowl moaned, stress ebbing away under the motions of Jazz's talented hands. Without his vision, he found his other senses working harder to fill the gaps. He could hear the sounds of Jazz shifting behind him and feel the heat coming off Jazz's body. Jazz continued to rub away tension around Prowl's midsection. He moved his hands gently up Prowl's back to his shoulders, rubbing away any knots and kinks he found. Jazz paused, said "Careful now," and moved his hands to the base of Prowl's door wings. Prowl cried out, the extreme sensitivity of the appendages first interpreting the touch as pain but quickly relaxing as the feeling morphed into pleasure. It felt so good!

Jazz continued to move his hands over Prowl's sensitive wings, carefully working away tension and replacing it with relaxed panels. Prowl could feel himself sinking deeper into the chair as his body eased under the Porsche's ministrations.

Jazz kissed Prowl's audio, murmuring "Ready for more?" Prowl muttered his assent. "Alright, moving now." Suiting action to words, Jazz moving his hands in long sweeping strokes over Prowl's shoulders to his chest. Starting at the base of his neck, Jazz worked on easing the kinks from the bonnet of Prowl's alt form. Prowl relaxed further, his engine purring. Prowl could feel Jazz smile. The saboteur moved around the chair, coming to again kneel in front of Prowl. He had left one hand on Prowl as he moved so Prowl would know his location. Jazz resumed massaging Prowl's chest, moving down under his bumper and stroking along the seams of the tactician's armor.

"Still feeling good, Prowler?" Jazz queried.

"Yes…" Prowl breathed. Jazz chuckled, lightening his touch. Blinded as he was, Prowl could feel his systems revving up as Jazz moved his hands back up and started moving them around his headlights. Jazz moved one hand along Prowl's side to his back, letting the other hand circle around the light. Suddenly, Prowl felt Jazz's glossa on the other headlight and gasped. Jazz hummed against the sensitive light and Prowl arched, trying to deepen the touch. Jazz firmed his touch and stroked, adding the joint of Prowl's doorwing into the mixture. Prowl was shuddering, reacting blindly to all the touches. Unable to see and thus anticipate, Prowl was finally reacting honestly to touch. Jazz moved up and breathed on Prowl's lips. Prowl moved forward and sealed their lips together, parting his lips to taste Jazz. This time, Jazz groaned and leaned against Prowl. The tactician wrapped his arms around the saboteur, starting to return the caresses Jazz was plying upon his body. Jazz allowed this for a time then gently pressed Prowl's hands back into his lap.

"This is for you, lover."

"We're not lovers, Jazz."

"We will be," promised the saboteur. He renewed his touches on Prowl's body, finding sensitive places Prowl hadn't known he had. He could feel cooling fans kick on, attempting to wick the heat from his body but unable to keep up with the stimulation provided by the Porsche's talented hands. Prowl shook and moaned as Jazz ran a fingertip up his side to a seam below his arm. The sensations were becoming overwhelming. His door wings felt limned in fire, each stroke of Jazz's fingers heightening the sensations flooding his processor. Jazz moved a hand to Prowl's abdomen, tracing the panels there and returning again and again to the arrow emblazoned on one panel. The texture seemed to fascinate him and Prowl could feel the area become more sensitive to Jazz's stroking with each pass of his hands. Prowl moved his hands to the arms of the chair and clenched them there. With more of Prowl's body open to his exploration, Jazz started to explore the seams of Prowl's legs. Helplessly, the tactician's legs opened wider to allow Jazz freer movement. The saboteur employed his glossa along the seam in the center of Prowl's chest and, combined with all the other sensations, Prowl felt his systems revving ever higher and hotter. Jazz moved his hand to the crease of Prowl's leg and that was the final touch necessary to send Prowl toppling into overload. He moaned and shook, energy crackling along various seams and joints. He finally collapsed back, spent. Jazz moved up and gently, thoroughly, kissed him, sinking deeper and deeper into Prowl's mouth. Prowl reciprocated, opening himself fully to Jazz's explorations. The tactician could feel Jazz's hands untying the knot at the back of his head and he welcomed the release of pressure from the blindfold but kept his optics shuttered anyway. Finally, Jazz drew back and Prowl opened his optics lazily, gazing in sated happiness at the Porsche.

"How was that?" Whispered Jazz, nuzzling Prowl's jaw line.

"Wonderful...thank you."

"You are more than welcome." Jazz gave him a final kiss and stood, pulling Prowl up with him and moving them both to the berth.

"What did you use?"

"For what, beloved?" Jazz arranged him comfortably on the berth and climbed in the other side.

"For the blindfold."

"Oh. A length of silk that got water damaged. The owner couldn't sell it, but I thought it was still beautiful and he let me have it. Why?"

"Felt nice…"

"Recharge. You're exhausted." Jazz kissed his chevron and Prowl slid swiftly into recharge. Jazz chuckled softly and murmured, "I'll get you to trust me with your body just as much as you trust me in your mind, lover. Just watch." Initiating his own recharge cycle, he laid down beside his beloved.


	3. The Card

Title: The Card (Lace)

Series: Love in Small Steps

By: mmouse15

Rating: K+

Word Count: 1600

Pairing: ProwlxJazz

Author's Notes: For reference, please see my profile.

This is entry #3 for the May 08 challenge on the ProwlxJazz comm on LJ.

Disclaimer: Jazz and Prowl belong to Hasbro, Takara, and many other people that aren't me. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

Prowl glared at the screen in front of him. Jazz had been behaving suspiciously for the past Earth week, and Prowl was ready to confront him about his behavior. His love had just entered the Ark, and given his secretive behavior Prowl would need to waylay him. He left the control room, intent upon catching Jazz before the saboteur could reach his quarters. He was not surprised to be waylaid by Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and dealt with them by making an appointment for the following morning. Many of the mechs aboard the Ark had been helping Jazz escape from him, so he was expecting such delaying tactics. He made it to the common room where he was stopped by the one mech he didn't dare brush off: Optimus Prime.

"Excellent, Prowl, I was just coming to get you. Ironhide reports a situation that we need to address immediately. Shall we?" Optimus made a motion with his hand to indicate the direction for Prowl to go. The tactician mentally shrugged. He would have to catch Jazz later, but catch him he would.

Jazz was relieved. Thank Primus for all the help he was getting from everyone in the Ark to complete his project. Hoist, Ironhide, Trailbreaker and Grapple were helping move a larger berth into his and Prowl's new quarters and removing the old one. Red Alert had helped Jazz figure out where a new room that would accommodate both Jazz and Prowl would be, then other mechs had helped clean out the room and move new berths, desks, and chairs into the new quarters. Jazz was nervous about asking Prowl to live with him, but he was tired of never having down time with Prowl. He wanted to be around him as much as possible and he felt that living in the same rooms was the next step in their relationship.

"Thar ya are, Jazz. All neat and tidy. Now I gotta go help Optimus keep Prowl away." Ironhide told him as he ushered the others out. Jazz looked around, using a cloth to dust off Prowl's new desk. He then went to his desk and pulled out a package, large and flat, and laid it in the center of Prowl's desk. The Porsche then checked his stereo system to be certain that the music he wanted was loaded up, took a final look around, and exited. He moved down the hall to his soon-to-be old quarters and entered them.

Prowl stalked down the halls toward his quarters. Internally, he was fuming. Ironhide had joined them after a breem, and they had spent the time going over an old site that Megatron had used. Ironhide swore that the 'Cons had been spotted around that area again. Prowl wasn't quite as certain, but had gamely gone along with the old warrior. Now he wanted to confront Jazz, and woe betide the mech that got in his way. Entering the final hallway, he stopped in front of Jazz's door and pressed the button to request entry.

"C'mon in!" rang out Jazz's cheery voice. The door slid aside and Prowl entered.

"Jazz, we need to talk," Prowl said this very sternly. Jazz's optics widened and a look of panic crossed his face. Prowl stepped forward and put his hands on Jazz's shoulders. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Jazz tentatively brought his hands up to rest on Prowl's waist.

"Jazz, you are up to something, and I want to know what it is. I'm responsible for the smooth running of this army and whatever it is you've been up to is interfering with operations. I can not…" He stopped as Jazz covered his mouth with a hand and laughing weakly, leaned his forehead against Prowl's chest. After a few moments, the Porsche lifted his head and laughed harder, but with a note of hysteria in the laugh that worried the tactician.

"The look on your face, Prowl." Jazz visibly brought himself under control. "Hm. Sorry 'bout that. Look, when you came in here like that, I sure thought…" He stopped, uncertainly.

"You thought what?" Prowl asked gently.

Jazz stepped away. "I thought you were going to break up with me."

"Break up with you? What does that mean?" The Datsun was puzzled.

"Breaking up is an Earth term for severing the relationship. I thought that's why you looked so stern."

Prowl looked closer at Jazz. The Porsche was trembling slightly, and Prowl could feel the tension emanating from his frame. He stepped next to the saboteur and framed his face, then leaned down and kissed him slowly, sweetly, keeping a gentle grasp on Jazz's face.

"I would sever my own arm before I gave you up, Jazz."

Jazz gasped and the kiss changed into something hot and dark as the saboteur deepened the kiss and started moving his hands over the tactician's body. After a time, Prowl started to lighten the kiss, slowly withdrawing until he could wrap Jazz in a hug. The saboteur buried his face in Prowl's shoulder, clinging to him.

"Jazz. I had no idea you were not confident about our relationship." Prowl stroked his hands over the Porsche's back soothingly.

Jazz buried his face deeper in Prowl's shoulder and muttered, "How'm I supposed to know when you don't talk to me?"

"I just assumed that you were as confident as I am." The tactician told him.

Jazz reared back and looked him in the optics. "You're confident?! I didn't know."

Prowl sighed. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"Assumed I was as confident as I appeared?"

"Yes."

"I'm not."

"I'm starting to understand that." Prowl continued to stroke Jazz's back, soothing the trembling saboteur.

Jazz leaned back in his embrace and told him, "I would give you everything that I am. I love you. You're the only mech for me. And, Prowl, I tell you that every day. But I don't…you don't…"

"I don't say it to you."

"No."

"But, Jazz, I'm with you. I spend my time with you, I recharge with you, what more do you want?"

"The words, Prowl. They matter, too." Jazz told him.

"But…doesn't Spike say that actions speak louder than words?" queried the tactician, genuinely confused.

Jazz laughed, brokenly. "Not…not for matters of the Spark, Prowler. The words mean something."

Prowl hummed thoughtfully. "I thought…well, it doesn't matter. I was obviously wrong." He continued to hug Jazz. A long while later, Jazz gently pulled free of the embrace and looked Prowl in the optics.

"Do you want to know what I've been doing now?"

"Yes, please."

Prowl looked around the room. Two desks on one side of the room, one much smaller than the other. Shelves above the desks and some familiar datapads over the larger desk. A couch facing an entertainment center, a table in front of the couch and two chairs flanking it, an energon dispenser tucked in a corner. Jazz led him to the other room, and there was a berth large enough for two mechs. A corner of the room had been walled off to make a small private wash rack. Jazz's velvet blanket was folded across one side of the berth.

"Everyone's helped. This used to be two separate rooms, and Hoist and Grapple figured out how to remove part of the wall. Wheeljack and Perceptor piped in the cleanser for the shower and no, it won't explode. Ironhide found the berth in a storage room and arranged to get it in here. And everyone helped keep you away from the doings." Jazz explained.

Prowl finally asked, "Why?"

Jazz led him to the front room and indicated the package on the desk. "Open that, please."

Prowl looked askance, but moved to pick up the flat package. He puzzled over the closure for a moment, then swiftly opened it and removed a large piece of heavy paper, cut into an odd shape and folded in half. It had some fabric around the edges. He looked to Jazz for guidance. The saboteur stepped forward and unfolded the paper. In beautifully written Cybertronian glyphs were the words 'Prowl, I love you. Jazz.'

"What is it?" The tactician finally asked.

Jazz laughed. "It's a valentine. On Earth, they exchange these once a year to show their love to someone."  
"I thought Valentine's Day was a couple of months ago?"  
"It was, but Carly told me that declarations of love didn't need to wait for that one day, and if I wanted to give you a Valentine's card, she'd help me. She taught me to do this," he indicated the fabric, "It's called lace and I made it."

"You made it? How?" Prowl fingered the lace carefully, seeing the evenness of the weave and marveling that his love had taken the time to make something so beautiful.

"I'll tell you later. It's called tatting. It was fun to do. Sunny helped me with the glyphs, his calligraphy is gorgeous, and Spike helped me find paper large enough."

"Jazz, I'm…overwhelmed. Why did you do all of this?" Prowl asked.

Jazz faced him and wound their fingers together. "Prowl. I love you. Will you live with me?"

"Oh."

Jazz waited patiently as Prowl ran through all the scenarios and finally gave a real answer. "Yes, Jazz, I will."

"Right answer, my mech." Jazz moved and kissed him.


	4. The Date

Title: The Date (Fishnet)

Series: Love in Small Steps

By: mmouse15

Rating: T

Word Count: 2700

Pairing: ProwlxJazz

Author's Notes: This is entry #4 for the May 08 challenge on the ProwlxJazz comm on LJ.

Disclaimer: Still don't own them, only borrowing them for a while. I'll give them back when I'm done playing…

Jazz and Carly sped down the road toward town. Carly was getting ready for a date with Spike and Jazz had volunteered to go with her. He wanted to learn more about this dating custom and what it entailed. Carly was more than happy to answer his questions and the two were enjoying themselves enormously.

"OK, so what's the meaning of lipstick? I don't get that one at all." Jazz said.

"Um, that one's hard to explain." Carly told him.

"No cop-outs here, Carly. You promised." Jazz came back.

"You're right, I did. Alright. Lipstick's most basic function is to draw attention to the lips. It can also moisturize and protect the lips, but for dating purposes, it draws the eye and therefore the mind to the lips, which leads to thoughts of kissing. How's that?"

"Hm. OK, what about high heels?" Jazz moved down his list of questions.

"They define and showcase the calves of the female which some people find sexy. Plus they make you taller." Carly answered.

"They look dangerous. I mean, they're not a very stable thing to walk on." Jazz told her.

"I agree, which is why I wear shoes with short heels or flats most of the time." Carly replied

"Well then, what about…never mind, we're here." Jazz pulled into the parking lot of the mall, moving around the lot to be near the large department store that Carly favored for shopping.

"Thanks, Jazz. I'll be out fairly soon. I just need some stockings and a slip."

"What are…never mind. You can explain when you get back." Jazz laughed.

"I will!" and Carly left to do her shopping.

Bored already, Jazz rapidly shifted through the airwaves and found a radio station he liked, then commed Blaster, who told him that the scouting party that was watching the Decepticons had just returned to the Ark. Pleased since that meant that Prowl was back, Jazz turned his focus back to his list of questions for Carly and the music running through his systems.

"Carly, that wasn't soon." The saboteur informed her after 2 hours.

"Oh, I know Jazz, and I'm really sorry, but I found this gorgeous little black dress and once I'd bought it, I had to get a new bra and new undies and different stockings and a different pair of shoes, and then I needed new makeup because what I have won't work with black. I'm so sorry it took so long. Can you drive back while I get dressed? I won't have time once we get there, so I'd like to do it on the way home. Is that OK?" Carly was breathless as she threw the various bags into Jazz's passenger seat and hopped into the driver's seat herself.

"Uh, sure, Carly. Look, I can use a holographic driver if you want to start now." The Porsche told the young woman.

"Really? Oh, that would be gnarly." Carly quickly scrambled over Jazz's console and into the passenger seat. She pushed the seat back as far as it would go and leaned the back down to give herself the maximum room to work.

"Jazz? Can you make your side windows darker?" She asked as she struggled out of her shoes.

"Sure, Carly." Jazz darkened his windows and concentrated on driving in the rush hour traffic. Carly had gotten her shoes off and thrown them in Jazz's back seat and she was using a cloth to remove her usual makeup. She reached into another bag and brought out a towel, drying her face and then spreading the towel over her lap. Carly then started pulling out makeup and putting the bottles and boxes on the towel. Jazz turned on a little used monitor to watch. She carefully spread a base over her face and neck, using the mirror on Jazz's passenger visor to check the job she was doing. She screwed the cap on the base and put it into the bag again, then moved on to blush, highlighting her cheekbones and brushing a small amount over her forehead. Jazz was fascinated by the process, and watched carefully as Carly moved on to do her eyes. She frowned and looked out at the traffic. Jazz was doing his best, but traffic was particularly heavy along this stretch of the highway. His top speed was about 10 miles per hour, and Carly nodded to herself.

"Try not to hit any potholes, OK, Jazz? Or if you're going to, tell me so I don't poke my eye out." She told him.

"Poke your eye out?" Jazz was startled.

"I'll explain later." Carly said and pulled out a mascara wand and started to brush it on her eyelashes, again using Jazz's mirror. Once she was done, she screwed the wand back into the bottle and threw it into the bag. Then she pulled out eye shadow and started on her right eye. Jazz kept his speed constant and slow, carefully driving so that Carly was not jostled. She finished the first eye and moved to the second.

"Do you think I need liner, Jazz?" She asked.

"What's liner?" He volleyed back.

"Oh, right. Well, I think I'll skip it." Carly finished her eye and closed the box, then started carefully pulling her shirt over her head. She rifled through the bags and pulled out a black bra. Jazz quickly snapped off the monitor to give her privacy. Carly turned her back to the front windshield and removed her bra, then snapped the black one on. She turned slightly and brought out a black swath of fabric and started pulling it over her head, being very careful around her face. Once the dress was mostly in place, she faced the front again and started wiggling out of her pants. She bundled all her old clothes together and stuffed them in a bag, then pulled a pair of black panties out and eased them over her legs and up. She then pulled the dress down and sat.

"You can look now, Jazz." She told him dryly.

"You have to admit this is fascinatin', Carly." Jazz told her.

"Oh, I understand. I appreciate you not looking while I was semi-naked, but I think you're OK now." Carly pulled out a flat package and ripped it open. To Jazz's surprise, it looked like a black pair of miniature legs. Carly separated them and rolled one over her hands, then started smoothing it over her leg.

"Carly? Those stockings are defective. They're more holes than fabric." The Porsche told her.

Carly just laughed at him. "These are fishnet stockings, Jazz, and they're supposed to be holey. It's kind of the point." She continued to pull the stocking up, then pulled a garter over the stocking to hold it in place. She repeated the steps on the other leg, then found her new shoes and wriggled her feet into them.

"We got a few minutes before we reach your house, Carly." Jazz told her as she was using a brush from her purse to fluff out her hair.

"Great. I'm almost done here." Carly pulled out a silky mass that unfolded to a lacy shawl and wrapped that around her shoulders. The blonde unwrapped a small evening purse and put the lipstick inside. She then gathered up anything she'd missed and stuffed everything into the two largest bags. Jazz pulled into the driveway. He stopped outside the door and popped his passenger door open. Carly gracefully stepped out, then turned back and grabbed the bags.

"Thanks, Jazz. I appreciate your help."

"Sure thing, Carly. Have fun."

Prowl tapped in the code to enter his and Jazz's quarters and was surprised to see Jazz stretched out on the berth, his hands behind his helm staring contemplatively at the ceiling.

"Jazz?" He asked.

"Oh, hey, Prowl, how was your day?" Jazz sat up.

"It was fine. What are you thinking about?" Prowl sat on the berth facing the saboteur.

Jazz was being surprisingly fidgety, and Prowl reached out and laid a hand over the Porsche's. Jazz stilled and after a moment clasped Prowl's hand.

"Carly's going on a date tonight with Spike, and I took her into town and then got to see her get ready for the date."

Prowl waited but Jazz added nothing else. "Alright. I don't understand why that would cause you to be so…sober."

"Thoughtful, you mean, and thanks Prowl. I do think, ya know." Jazz rebuked him gently.

"Yes, I know you think. But you rarely get so deeply into your thoughts that you become…"

"Quiet?" Jazz interjected.

"Yes. So what has you thinking so hard that I can almost see your processor overheating?" Prowl's thumb stroked over Jazz's fingers.

"Well, Carly did all these things to get ready for this date. She bought a new dress, new shoes, put different makeup on, wore stockings, just…went through a lot of effort and expense to impress Spike, and he's already impressed with her. I'm just trying to understand why she went through so much effort when Spike already likes her the way she is." The saboteur confided.

Prowl thought about what Jazz had said for a time, then slowly replied, "I think…we all behave differently around the ones we're attracted toward. Sometimes it's little things, sometimes it's larger. I think Carly wants Spike to know that she appreciates his attentions and she's reciprocating by make an effort to please him."

"But like I said, he already appreciates her. Why do all that extra stuff?" Jazz was genuinely confused, and Prowl set a portion of his processor to research while he searched for the proper words to allay Jazz's discomfort.

"It's perhaps something like this: why do you bring me energon when I'm working a late shift and you have an early shift? Why, since we've woken from stasis do you find nature documentaries and drag me in to watch them with you?"

"I…well…because…" Jazz sputtered.

"You bring me energon because you are thinking about me. You find programs to watch that you think I would enjoy even if you really wouldn't, and you watch them with me because that way you can spend time with me. Right?" Prowl informed him.

"Right." The saboteur sighed.

"Carly's doing the same thing for Spike, but they have different social mores than we do." The tactician concluded, satisfied with his explanation.

Jazz was quiet for a bit, then looked up with a determined expression on his face. "OK, but you need to explain one thing to me."

"I'll try," returned the Datsun hesitantly.

"Carly got these things called stockings, and Prowl, they were mostly holes, and I just don't understand why she'd wear something so impractical."

"What?" Prowl couldn't believe his audios.

"She called them fishnet, and Prowl, my circuits are frying here 'cause it just don't make sense." Jazz looked mortified that he didn't understand something from Earth's culture. Prowl was sure that this was a rare event in the saboteur's personal history. He clasped Jazz's hand more firmly and searched for images of what Jazz described. He rapidly searched Earth's databases, wish that the human species were more advanced when it came to information retrieval. He finally found an image with poor resolution but it was clear enough for him to understand the description. He smiled and Jazz straightened with a jerk.

"You don't understand? Oh, Jazz, let me explain for you, please." Prowl practically purred the words out, and Jazz's optics opened so wide they glowed behind his visor. Prowl crawled up on the berth, moving over Jazz who leaned back until he collapsed on his back. The tactician moved up the saboteur's body, finally coming to rest over the Porsche. The Datsun reached down and touched the edge of Jazz's hood, carefully, lightly, using one finger.

"Fishnet tantalizes, Jazz. It shows more than it hides, but it's a barrier." He traced a line down the white hood to the bumper and continued, "You can see what you want, you can touch what you want, but there's still…something…between you. Something to overcome." His fingers traced the red line running across the front of Jazz's bumper. His voice had deepened and Jazz was having a very difficult time keeping cool. His fans were running on high speed as his systems attempted to vent the heat from his frame. He'd never seen Prowl act this way before, and it was having an amazing effect on his mental state.

Prowl continued to trace lines down the Porsche's body, moving under the bumper. The saboteur couldn't help the whimper that escaped him as the tactician moved his finger over Jazz's abdomen, moving down to his groin but bypassing all the sensitive areas there. Jazz gasped under his touch, shifting on the berth. Prowl hushed him, moving onto Jazz's leg, continuing to trace a line over the Porsche's body. He continued, "It's a tease, a glimpse of what you want. You could image tracing every line of the stocking. It keeps your mind on what you're seeing and every movement makes you envy those stockings for touching what you can't while you're out in public. You imagine taking those stockings off slowly, re-tracing every line." He traced a line with his forefinger, traced another with his thumb and Jazz's engine revved when Prowl brought his thumb and finger together and gently pinched the armor seam. The Datsun moved further down Jazz's body and brought his glossa into play on Jazz's other leg. The Porsche let his head fall completely back with a groan, unable to keep quiet as Prowl demonstrated for him the power of the imagination. The saboteur continued to writhe under his lover's ministrations, Prowl whispering, "You want to take move your hands to the tops of the stockings, run your fingers under the garter, imagine what the garter looks like. Will it be sexy? Or will it be a contrast to the stockings themselves and be sweet, innocent?" He moved the fingers of one hand in a line over Jazz's thigh, suiting action to words. Jazz was panting by now, unable to cool himself. Prowl moved to his knee and started tracing the sensitive joint, dipping his fingers into the seams and stroking the cables and gears of the joint. Jazz sat up and pulled Prowl up by the shoulders.

"I need you up here, lover." He told the tactician.

"Hm, do you?" Prowl moved up over Jazz, coming over him more completely, putting his mouth next to the saboteur's audio and horn. He continued, and the vibrations from his voice had Jazz writhing beneath him, "Do you begin to understand, Jazz, how just seeing something so evocative could drive a lover mad with desire?" The tactician nuzzled the saboteur's horn and lower his voice further. "Do you begin to see the power of suggesting something without confirming or denying? Perhaps you'll get lucky or perhaps you won't." His opposite hand came up to glide around the other horn of Jazz's helm, lightly stroking one finger along the edge. Jazz was gone, lost in a haze of overload, his processor overwhelmed by Prowl's voice and touch. Prowl continued to talk and Jazz felt his processor begin to shut down in self-defense against the intense electrical impulses running over his frame. He felt Prowl's overload take him, triggered by the intensity of Jazz's. Prowl collapsed against Jazz.

The Porsche went through a reboot of his systems, hot air venting out and heating the room. He shifted Prowl to a more comfortable position, glad when the Datsun became aware enough to assist in getting them both comfortable for recharge. Prowl pressed a gentle kiss to Jazz's lips and closed his optics.

"Prowl?" The saboteur asked.

"Yes, Jazz?"

"Ya see, part of the problem is that fishnet stockings won't work." Jazz told him, aware that his processor was scrambled enough that he might not make sense, but wanting to get this last concern out.

"Why not, Jazz?" Prowl was half way into recharge by now.

"Because the string part would get all stuck in my servos and I don't want to explain that to Ratchet."

"Jazz?"

"Yes, Prowl?"

"Recharge."

"Yes, Prowl."


	5. The Gift

Title: The Gift (Leather)

Series: Love in Small Steps

By: mmouse15

Rating: M

Word Count: 2100

Pairing: ProwlxJazz

Author's Notes: This is entry #5 for the May 08 challenge on the ProwlxJazz comm on LJ.

Disclaimer: I really don't own these guys. I play with them, I have fun, and I give them back to the people that really own them, Hasbro and Takara.

Jazz moved slowly down the hall to his quarters. Had he been human, one might have said he was dragging his feet, but being a Cybertronian, he wasn't really dragging anything. However, each step was carefully, slowly, deliberately placed without Jazz's usual grace and lightness.

Optimus Prime had decided that the threat to Cybertron was greater than the threat to Earth and had begun to establish secret bases on Cybertron's moons. He had worked with the officer corps to draw up teams that would work well together and would also be able infiltrators that could help the efforts on Cybertron itself. Prowl was remaining behind for the time being on Earth, while Jazz was being shipped off to Moon Base 1. Prowl would finalize the preparations for Autobot City and rejoin Prime's crew when Ultra Magnus arrived to take command of Earth's forces, but the two were going to be separated and Jazz was having a difficult time wrapping his processor around that fact.

He reached the door to their quarters and typed in the code, entering as the door slid aside. He was startled to see a gift on his desk, wrapped in a satin ribbon. He picked it up and read the attached note.

_Dear Jazz,_

_I will miss you while we are apart._

_Here are some things to remind you of our time on Earth._

_I love you._

_Prowl_

Jazz looked through the trinkets in delight. There was a small water smoothed green and white striped rock, a pinecone, a small painting of the mountains around the Ark, a figurine of a popular cartoon character that Jazz enjoyed watching, a record album cover that Jazz had especially enjoyed, and a very soft cloth that had covered the entire trove. Jazz handled the little treasures with joy. Prowl had chosen the gifts with care and thought for what pleased Jazz, and the saboteur was deeply grateful for the consideration. The door slid open just then, and the Porsche looked up at the tactician framed in the doorway.

Prowl looked exhausted, but he managed a smile for Jazz as the saboteur came to greet him. Jazz pulled him into the room and gently kissed him.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, pulling the Datsun over to his own desk and having him sit. Jazz then moved behind him and started rubbing the tense cables and plates of Prowl's back. The tactician groaned in pleasure as Jazz's talented hands worked away the stress and strain of the past days. As the Datsun relaxed, Jazz moved his hands more toward Prowl's wings. Prowl shifted and pulled Jazz into his lap, curling over the saboteur as if to shield him from the world. Jazz reciprocated, snuggling into his lover's chassis. They held each other for long moments, reveling in the closeness of the other. Finally, Prowl pressed a kiss to Jazz's cheek and asked,

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, very much." Was the reply.

"Did I miss anything?" Prowl continued to nuzzle along the edge of the saboteur's helm.

"Um…uh, no, except I don't know what the cloth is for." Jazz was getting distracted by Prowl's attentions.

"Oh. It's a chamois." Prowl ghosted fingers up over the Porsche's sides and Jazz arched closer to the Datsun.

"A chamois? Oh, one of those leather cloths they use after the carwash?"

"Yes, Jazz. How would you like to break it in?" The tactician moved his hand to Jazz's aft and squeezed gently, getting a groan in response.

"Break it in?"

"Yes. I need a shower, and I was hoping I could talk you into…"

"Washing your back for you?" Jazz purred at him.

"Yes, please," was the growled response.

Taking a shower together was one of those rare luxuries not often afforded them. Usually, Prowl was in meetings when Jazz got off patrol, or Jazz was busy doing social things when Prowl came off duty, or they were on missions together or separately. So the mechanics of showering together were still new and caused Jazz to become quite…silly.

"Jazz, that is not the cloth! That is my aft!"

"Oh, sorry Prowl. Got confused. Must have cleansers in my optics or something." Jazz excused himself.

Prowl humphed at him, "I don't think you did. There. I'm clean. It's your turn under the spray."

They maneuvered around until Jazz was under the cleansing spray, and Prowl squirted cleansers onto the terry cloth towel they used as a wash cloth. He rubbed the roof of Jazz's alt mode, using the cloth to spread the foamy soap around then moved to Jazz's arms and the front of his torso. He moved down to Jazz's legs, then finished up around the Porsche's wings. After rinsing all the suds off, he turned off the shower and pulled Jazz out, then picked up the chamois and began using it to dry and polish Jazz's form.

This turned into an excuse for both mechs to do their best to drive each other wild under the guise of 'drying' themselves. Prowl moved the chamois over Jazz's doors, carefully working the soft leather into every crevice. He then dried and polished the roof that covered Jazz's back, moving to his arms and having the saboteur humming in pleasure as he carefully worked the soft cloth over his panels and joints. The Datsun then started working on Jazz's sides, moving over his aft with firm strokes and causing the Porsche to yelp when he gave him a grope while he was there. Prowl merely laughed up at him, causing Jazz's visor to darken with arousal. The tactician rubbed the leather over the back of Jazz's legs, circling to the front and working his way up. He paid careful attention to Jazz's knees, which were very sensitive joints, using smooth strokes with enough pressure to not tickle the saboteur. Jazz moaned at the touch, shifting his stance to better keep himself upright. Prowl used this to his advantage, moving the soft leather up the insides of Jazz's legs. The Porsche put his hands on Prowl's shoulders as the Datsun rose from his crouch and dragging the leather over his groin, moved to his abdomen and chest. He moved the cloth over Jazz's lower abdomen working the leather into the slats fronting the plates that made up Jazz's hips, then moving up to his bumper and running the cloth along the headlights and running lights of his alt form. Jazz was panting by this time, his cooling fans unable to keep up with the heat being generated by what Prowl was doing to him. The Datsun brought up his other hand and moved the cloth to the other side but continued to stroke Jazz's headlights with his now free hand, causing the saboteur to bring his own hands into play, stroking them over Prowl's own headlights and rubbing his thumbs over the 'Police' imprinted on the front of Prowl's bumper.

The tactician murmured "Don't rush, love. Let me finish," as he moved the chamois on top of Jazz's hood and began rubbing it in circles, moving closer to Jazz's neck and face. When he arrived there, Jazz grabbed him and pulled him in for a kiss that was hot and hard and desperate. Prowl dropped the chamois and kissed him back, stroking his glossa over the saboteur's lips and demanding entry, deepening the kiss. Jazz whimpered, his hands moving frantically over Prowl's chest to his back. Prowl broke the kiss to pull the Porsche to their berth, pushing him down and resuming their kiss. He brought one hand down to Jazz's bumper and stroked the underside, causing the Porsche to buck under him. The tactician gentled the kiss, then moved his lips to the side of the saboteur's helm, humming a deep note as he did so. Jazz was mewling, his hands frantically mapping Prowl's frame as he stroked sensitive plates and ran his fingers over nodes and wires that he knew were some of the tactician's hot spots.

Meanwhile, Prowl was moving up Jazz's helm to his horns and whispering, "Let go, Jazz. I'll be with you. I'll catch you. Let go, lover."

Jazz howled as his overload slammed into him. Prowl shook as the excess energy rocked through his frame and he threw back his head and screamed as he also achieved his peak. The energy crackled over their frames and lit the room with a blue glow. Prowl collapsed across Jazz, too dazed to catch himself, his fans and vents working hard to expel the heat of their encounter. Jazz had simply dropped into recharge, too tired to keep his processor going. Prowl brushed as kiss over his lips, then crawled off the saboteur and snuggled next to him, initiating his recharge cycle. He gazed at his lover and whispered, "I will always be there for you. I love you so much."

The next morning Jazz onlined feeling better than he had for weeks. He turned his head and smiled at the sight of Prowl curled around him with his chin touching Jazz's shoulder, his arm across the Porsche's waist and a small smile on his lips. As Jazz watched, his optics came online and met his, the smile on Prowl's lips growing wider.

"Good morning, beloved."

"Good morning to you, love."

"Thank you for the gifts, Prowl."

Prowl moved closer and kissed Jazz sweetly. "You are very welcome."

Jazz turned into Prowl's embrace and gazed at him solemnly. The smile slowly faded from the tactician's face.

"What is it, Jazz?" he asked.

"Have you ever thought about bonding?" The saboteur asked.

Prowl didn't answer immediately. He turned the thought over in his mind, examining it carefully and fully, analyzing the myriad aspects of such a step on their lives, their relationship, the war, their fellow Autobots…

"It's a simple question, Prowl." The Porsche told him.

"With a complex answer, Jazz." The Datsun shot back.

"Agreed. But I asked a yes or no type question."

"Then no, I hadn't thought about it."

"Will you? Will you think about it, will you consider doing it with me, will you be mine forever?" The list of questions rattled out as if Jazz were afraid to voice them, and something deep in Prowl shifted, re-aligned, changed.

"Jazz, I am yours forever, bond or no bond. I could never love another as much as I love you." The tactician pulled the saboteur as close as he could.

Jazz was wrapped around his frame, trembling. "I just…I want to know how much you love me. I'm scared, Prowl. I want…I want to be reassured that this is forever."

Prowl began to smooth his hand down Jazz's back, reassuring him with touch that he was there, that he cared. "A bond won't change the fact that I am yours, Jazz, and that I always will be."

"No, I suppose not."

A quiet period followed. Prowl continued to think over Jazz's question. When his comm unit beeped, he regretted the interruption, but answered it anyway.

"Prowl here."

"Ah, good. Prowl, will you meet with me and Ultra Magnus in two breems?" Optimus' voice came over the line.

"Of course, Prime."

"And say good morning to Jazz for me, too. Optimus out."

The Datsun chuckled and kissed Jazz once more. "Optimus says good morning."

"Hmph. Would have been better without his call."

"Yes, but I do have work and so do you. Up, oh, indolent one."

"Indolent? Who didn't jump out of the berth right away?" The Porsche teased.

"I didn't. But only because my love came up with an interesting question that I needed to think about the answer for a while."

"You still need to think about the answer."

"No, I don't." Prowl told him.

Jazz froze. "You don't?"

"No. I will bond with you when I arrive at the Moon Base."

Slowly, a smile crept across the Porsche's face. "You will?"

The tactician walked around the berth and wrapping the saboteur in a hug, murmured in his audio, "Yes, I will. Because I love you, because you need it, because it's the right thing to do."

"I love you, Prowl."

"I love you, Jazz." A fierce hug, then Prowl broke free and headed for their energon dispenser to start his day. "Don't forget to pack today, Jazz. You leave tomorrow and you won't have time."

"Sure thing, Prowler. See you later?"

Prowl stopped and looked at him. "I will make sure of it." He continued out the door to begin his day.

Jazz leaned against the berth, then smiled and laughed. Prowl may have intended his little trove of treasures to be Jazz's gift, but the greatest gift was knowing that Prowl would step out of his comfort zone to reassure Jazz of his love and his commitment.


	6. The Ribbon

Title: The Ribbon (Satin)

Series: Love in Small Steps

By: mmouse15

Rating: M

Word Count: 2200

Pairing: ProwlxJazz

Author's Notes: This is entry #6 for the May 08 challenge on the ProwlxJazz comm on LJ.

Disclaimer: They're not mine, I'm merely borrowing them from their proper owners. I promise no harm to the toys in the time they spend with me…

Jazz stood straight and proud, checking his line of troops. They were all in line and looked eager to greet their comrades from Earth. Jazz could certainly understand their feelings. He was ready to see Prowl again, but he knew they would have to go through all the formalities of welcoming the new troops and updating various officers on the situations of Earth and Cybertron. He snapped to attention as the ramp lowered from the shuttle. The first mechs strode out and stopped in front of Optimus Prime.

"SIC Autobot Prowl, reporting for duty, sir!" Prowl rapped out.

"Excellent, Prowl, welcome to Moon Base 1. We're glad to have you with us finally. How is Autobot City?" Optimus turned toward the base entrance, and Prowl fell into step beside him.

"It's fine, sir. Ultra Magnus has command now, and they have a good stock of energon." Prowl's voice trailed off as they entered the base. Jazz pulled his attention back to the shuttle and watched as the remainder of the Autobots joining them from Earth came down the ramp.

Prowl remained closeted with the Prime for joors, updating him on the status of Earth's resources, Autobot City, the broken transformation cog of Metroplex, his impressions of the mechs that had come to Earth with Ultra Magnus and his thoughts for the future. Optimus updated the tactician on the current situation on Cybertron and the mental state of the Autobots on the moon bases.

"Well, Prowl, I suppose I should let you get to your quarters and rest. Tomorrow will be soon enough to start planning the new campaign against the Decepticons." Optimus told him.

"Sir, I just…" Prowl stopped when Optimus raised a hand.

"If I don't let you go soon, I'm going to have to deal with Jazz and frankly, I'd rather not do that. So off you go." Optimus made shooing motions with his hands, causing Prowl to laugh.

"Yes, I suppose he's eager."

"I think eager is too mild a word for what Jazz is feeling. He's been practically vibrating since we got word you were coming." Optimus chuckled.

"Alright, sir. My quarters are located…where?" Prowl stood and moved toward the door.

"Jazz will show you." As the door slid open, Jazz stood from the bench just outside where he'd been waiting. "Have fun!" Prime waved them off.

Prowl stepped up to Jazz and spoke, "I…would you please show me to my quarters?"

The saboteur looked taken aback until he made optic contact with the tactician. Prowl was barely holding himself together, and if he and Jazz touched, they would never make it to a private place. Jazz stepped back and answered, "Certainly. Please follow me."

The tactician swung in behind him as Jazz strode quickly down the hallways. They soon entered the sleeping area of the small base, and Jazz stopped by a non-descript doorway and typed in a code, standing aside to let Prowl enter first. The tactician stepped through the doorway and turned as Jazz followed him in.

The quarters belonged to Jazz. His collection of Earth treasures was displayed on a shelf over a small desk, and the sound equipment could only belong to the saboteur, since Blaster was still on Earth. Prowl saw all this in a moment before he was swept into a fierce embrace and kissed hard. He flowed into the arms holding him, returning the kiss with fervor and verve, stroking his hands over the form of his beloved and reacquainting himself with the sensitive areas on the saboteur's body. Jazz groaned and moved closer, sweeping his hands over Prowl's back and doorwings, causing the tactician to arch into him.

Prowl suddenly broke the embrace, stepping back and panting to help his cooling systems. Jazz whimpered and tried to resume, stopped by Prowl's hands on his shoulders.

"Wait. Please." Prowl was shuddering, fighting for control. Jazz reached out to stroke Prowl's chest and had his hand captured by the tactician.

"Prowler, please, I'm dying for ya." Jazz whispered.

"Jazz, did you mean what you said?" Prowl asked, pulling Jazz into his arms.

"Which bit, Prowl?" Jazz nuzzled close, basking in the closeness of his lover.

"About bonding." A silence descending upon the room, broken only by the air moving through their vents to cool their systems.

Jazz cupped Prowl's face in his hands and leaned forward until there was was only a whisper of room between their lips, "Yes, I meant it." He kissed Prowl gently, sweetly, with all the love in his Spark. Prowl kissed him back, then changed the kiss to gentle pecks, answering him back, "Then let's do it."

And no more words were spoken for a very long time.

Before Jazz unshuttered his optics from recharge, he reveled in the feeling of Prowl in his Spark. Being bonded was, perhaps, going to take some adjustment, but he was very happy right now and basked in the feeling of completeness that suffused his awareness. A tickle of humor trickled into the bond, and he finally opened his optics to see Prowl smiling down on him.

"Morning, gorgeous." Jazz laughed up at him, joy suffusing them both.

"Good morning. Would you like your present now?" Prowl replied.

"Ooo, presents? Yes, please!" Jazz sat up, as eager as a child on Christmas. Prowl handed him a rectangular flat package, pleasingly wrapped in a long satin ribbon that had been wound around the gift inside and tied in a bow. Jazz pulled the end of the bow and unwound the ribbon, revealing a photograph of he and Prowl taken at the farewell party months ago on Earth. Whoever had taken the shot had caught the moment when they had optics only for the other. Jazz smiled and set the photo on the shelf above the berth.

"Sparkplug managed to get that shot, and gave the photograph to me. I thought you would like to have it." Prowl told him.

Jazz was playing with the ribbon, running it through his fingers. "It's great to have it, but is that all of my present?"

Prowl was confused, "Well, yes, what else would there be?"

In answer, Jazz looped the ribbon around Prowl's neck and tied it in a bow, then walked his fingers up Prowl's hood toward the knot of the bow. "I don't know, Prowler, what else could you possibly give me?"

Prowl slowly leaned back as Jazz moved over him, playing with the ends of the ribbon. "Uh…oh…um, I don't know, Jazz. Haven't I already given you myself?"

Jazz had moved over him far enough to kiss him, then he said, "Yes, but what if I want you again?"

Prowl's systems were heating, and the feeling of love and lust coming through the bond were making it difficult for him to concentrate enough to answer, but he wrenched his attention back and replied, "Then you can have me again."

Jazz smiled and Prowl's vents hitched at the predatory look in his optics. Gently, the bond closed off and the saboteur whispered, "Close your optics and let me unwrap my present."

Prowl shuttered his optics, relaxing back against the berth as Jazz moved down his body.

"First, I want to look it over and make sure there's no damage." The black hands moved gently over Prowl's legs, stroking over the outsides to his ankle joints, then up the insides to his knees, carefully investigating the sensitive joints for a few moments, then continuing their journey up to the curves of his hips. Jazz used his thumbs to stimulate the sensors of Prowl's hip armor, moving in toward the arrow in the center of the armor. It was one of Jazz's favorite places to tease, and this time was no different as his hands met in the center of the black armor and began stroking the arrow. Prowl couldn't help but arch into the touch, groaning as he did. Too soon, Jazz continued up Prowl's body, moving over the thinner plating of his abdomen to bottom of his alt-form hood. He spent a lot of time there, stroking over headlights and running lights, causing Prowl to writhe on the berth. The saboteur moved to the top of the hood where the ends of the ribbon were within reach. Jazz spent a few moments straightening the ribbon, then moved over the mounts where Prowl's shoulder mounted rockets would attach. Without the rockets there, Prowl's mounts would become extremely sensitive to touch, and Jazz spent many moments there, stroking over each one until Prowl was moaning beneath him. The saboteur then moved to Prowl's helm, gently moving his fingertips over Prowl's audios and the edges of his helm, finally reaching his chevron and stroking a fingertip over the front, starting at one tip and moving down to the center, then up to the other tip. Prowl was quivering, his vocalizer crackling with static as the tactician fought to hold off his overload. Jazz moved his fingers over Prowl's face, gently caressing the features of his lover, then moving over his chin to the knot nestled at the base of his throat.

"Hm, everything looks to be undamaged and in fine order. Now I can unwrap you and make sure." Jazz grasped one end of the ribbon, pulling on it. The loop of the bow slowly got smaller as Jazz pulled on the end. The tugging against the cables of his neck had Prowl writhing, his body so charged from what Jazz had been doing that the feel of the satin was almost too much. The loop finally pulled through the knot, and Jazz moved to the other end of the ribbon, slowly pulling on it but this time, he kept the ribbon against Prowl's hood and the slide of the satin was finally too much. Prowl howled as the energy in his body finally reached maximum capacity and slammed through him. Jazz threw open the bond and cascaded into his own overload, which looped back into Prowl, causing another peak. Prowl's overwhelmed systems shut down and he knew no more.

"Prowl?" The query went through his audios and his processor at the same time. He moaned softly, but responded.

"Hm?"

"I like my presents very much." Jazz told him, good humor shining through the bond.

Prowl opened his optics and cocked a ridge at him. "I'm glad, but it doesn't look like you've finished unwrapping me." The ribbon was still around his neck, the ends draped over his shoulder mounts.

"True, but Optimus just pinged me and told me that you have a meeting in two breems, and I'd better refuel you and let you get to work."

"Ack!" Prowl shot up and swung his legs over the berth, standing and starting to move to the door.

"Prowl, wait!" Jazz shot after him.

"I can't. I need to find my office and get organized." Prowl continued to move. Jazz planted himself firmly in front of him.

"Yes, but I can help. Your office is right next to mine, and I know my way around. Besides, I don't think you want anyone to see you like this," The saboteur told him.

"See me like what?" The tactician was confused.

Jazz reached up and finished removing the ribbon, wrapping it around his hand and throwing the bundle of satin toward the desk.

"See what wonderful presents you bring me."

Prowl laughed, jostled into a better humor by the love and joy bleeding through the bond from his mate.

"Alright, oh happy one. Lead on." They exited their quarters, preparing for a long day but reveling in the closeness that bound them forever.

The End.

As a bonus, I'm including the original version of this story that struck me right after Purajo made the challenge. I woke up crying with this story already complete in my head and crawled out of bed at 4 AM to write it. It turned out to be too sad and too short for the story arc that developed, but I thought it was beautiful and I hate to lose it. And I hate TF:TM. Can I just ignore that it ever happened?

_Jazz ran his fingers over the ribbon. He'd done this so many times the ribbon was starting to wear thin, but Jazz couldn't stop touching it. This time, he ran the tips of his fingers over the knurled edge, feeling the indentations of the stitches that kept the edge from fraying._

_How was he supposed to go on? How was he supposed to deal with this…emptiness? Once again running his fingers over the ribbon, he mourned. Prowl was gone and his world was empty. Once again, his loss resonated deep in his Spark, searching for the other half of itself and finding nothing. Bringing the ribbon to his face, he gently ran it over his lips, wishing it were Prowl's lips, the ribbon a poor substitute for his real desire. It was what he had left, the ribbon had been carefully wrapped around the last gift Prowl had given him, a last touch between them before…before the shuttle run to disaster and loss._

_Jazz ran the ribbon through his fingers again then curled up, stroking his thumb over the heavy satin. He would continue to do this until he fell into an uneasy recharge, his grief giving him no respite._

_He missed Prowl._


	7. Bonus: Between Leather and Satin

Title: Between Leather and Satin

Series: Love in Small Steps

By: mmouse15

Rating: M

Word Count: 3000

Pairing: ProwlxJazz

Author's Notes: This is entry the missing scene from The Ribbon and is the bonding between Prowl and Jazz. It is done more from Prowl's POV. I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Much as I wished they were mine, they're not. Hasbro and Takara own the copyrights and all other intellectual parts of Transformers. I merely borrow them for my own amusement.

Optimus looked at Jazz, who was fidgeting and unable to sit still. "Impatient, aren't we?"

"You don't know the half of it, Optimus. I can hardly wait for them to get here." The saboteur told him.

"Them or him?" Optimus gently queried.

Jazz shot him a sharp look, straightening up. What Bumblebee had dubbed his 'poker face' slid into place. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

Optimus leaned back in his chair. "Come now, Jazz. I am not stupid nor am I blind. I was very sorry to split you up, but I needed you here and him down there."

Jazz remained aloof, not replying, so the commander continued, "Now that he's coming, are you two going to finally make it permanent and bond?"

"Sir!"

"Well, really, it seems the next logical step for you. He's in love with you and you're in love with him, so why not formalize it?"

The saboteur suddenly dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands. "He said he would, but I don't think I want to go through the ceremony, I just want him to be mine. And I'm not sure that in the months we've been gone he won't rethink the idea and say no, and the war is much more real here than it was on Earth, and, " he dropped his hands for a moment to wail, "I'm scared!"

Optimus stood and moved around the desk to Jazz's side, wrapping his hands over the black ones. "Jazz. There is no reason to be scared. He's still Prowl."

Jazz wove his fingers between Optimus and confessed, "Yes, but I don't feel like I'm still Jazz!"

The big 'bot chuckled and told him, "No one else even comes close. You're still Jazz, he'll still love you, and if you don't bond, I'm afraid you're both going to explode from repressed feelings and I don't need you pulling a Wheeljack up here."

"I don't want a big deal made out of it, though, Prime." Jazz muttered.

"Then we won't. A ceremony isn't needed to create a bond. I can't give you Prowl's time immediately after they land, but I will keep my time with him to a couple of joors, and I will make sure that neither of you are disturbed for the entire recharge cycle. How's that?"

Jazz nodded, squeezing Optimus' hands and then releasing them. Optimus stood and with a smile, told the saboteur to go get ready for the shuttle's arrival. Jazz threw him a salute and left.

The smile slowly faded from the Prime's face. "Primus. I hope I'm making the right decision here. I need both of them, and they need each other. Bonding in the middle of a war…I hope it's right."

The first thing Prowl saw as he exited the shuttle was Jazz, standing straight and proud with his troops. Prowl forced his attention to the Prime awaiting him at the bottom of the ramp.

"SIC Autobot Prowl, reporting for duty, sir!" Prowl rapped out.

"Excellent, Prowl, welcome to Moon Base 1. We're glad to have you with us finally. How is Autobot City?" Optimus turned toward the base entrance, and Prowl fell into step beside him.

"It's fine, sir. Ultra Magnus has command now, and they have a good stock of energon." Prowl continued to follow Optimus to his office where the Prime offered him a small cube of energon which he refused. Prowl pulled from his subspace the diagrams of Autobot City and the various reports pressed upon him by Ultra Magnus, Perceptor, Wheeljack, Springer and various other commanders and officers remaining on Earth. His attention would wander to Jazz and he would ruthlessly jerk it back to the reports and updates he was giving Prime.

Finally, Prime told him "Well, Prowl, I suppose I should let you get to your quarters and rest. Tomorrow will be soon enough to start planning the new campaign against the Decepticons."

"Sir, I just…" He stopped when Optimus raised a hand.

"If I don't let you go soon, I'm going to have to deal with Jazz and frankly, I'd rather not do that. So off you go." Optimus made shooing motions with his hands. Prowl chuckled at the odd sight and replied, "Yes, I suppose he's eager."

"I think eager is too mild a word for what Jazz is feeling. He's been practically vibrating since we got word you were coming." The commander looked down at the map on his desk.

"Alright, sir. My quarters are located…where?" Prowl stood and moved toward the door.

"Jazz will show you." As the door slid open, Jazz stood from the bench just outside where he'd been waiting. "Have fun!" With that, Optimus keyed his door shut and Prowl grabbed his rapidly diminishing reserve and spoke. "I…would you please show me to my quarters?"

Jazz looked surprised. Prowl hoped he wouldn't touch him, because he was holding onto his control by the thinnest of margins. He could hardly wait to get his hands on the saboteur and reclaim him. Jazz seemed to understand this, because he stepped back and answered, "Certainly. Please follow me."

Prowl released a small amount of air in relief and followed the saboteur. They finally stopped by a door, although the tactician wouldn't have been able to find the door again. He'd been watching Jazz walk and was mesmerized by the sway of his hips and the beauty of his aft. The temptation to touch was nearly overwhelming his control. Jazz punched in a code and motioned Prowl to proceed. As soon as he stepped into the room, he could tell it belonged to Jazz by the possessions scattered about. As soon as the door slid shut, the saboteur swept him into a kiss.

Prowl moaned. He had missed the feel, the taste, the form of Jazz more than he had ever thought he would. His hands quickly mapped the saboteur's body in an attempt to be sure this wasn't a dream, then moved more leisurely over Jazz's back. Jazz groaned and pressed himself closer to Prowl, his hands moving over the tactician's back and wings. The feel of hands on those sensitive joints caused Prowl to arch into Jazz and the rush of sensation reminded him that they needed to talk for a moment. He pulled back, moving his hands to Jazz's shoulders and pressing to keep a small distance between them.

"Wait. Please." His entire body was shuddering and his venting systems were working overtime trying to cool his overheated body. Jazz stroked his chest with one hand and Prowl quickly wrapped his hand around the black one threatening to break his resolve.

"Prowler, please, I'm dying for ya." Jazz's voice was static-ey with need and Prowl again shuddered as that _want_ rasped across his audios.

"Jazz, did you mean what you said?" He asked, pulling Jazz into his arms.

"Which bit, Prowl?" The feel of the saboteur nuzzling his neck almost caused him to abandon his question, but he pulled back again and asked.

"About bonding." A silence descending upon the room, broken only by the air moving through their vents to cool their systems.

Jazz's hands cupped his face he leaned forward until there was only a whisper of room between their lips, "Yes, I meant it." He kissed Prowl gently, sweetly, with all the love in his Spark. Prowl couldn't help responding briefly, then he pressed quick kisses to Jazz's lips, saying in between kisses, "Then let's do it."

Jazz pulled him across the room to the recharge berth, gently pushing him down with hands on his shoulders and straddling his lap. This allowed the saboteur to be higher than the tactician, and he took advantage of the height to cup his face and angle it for a deep kiss. Prowl felt his engine rev back up and the heat he'd managed to dispel was back, warnings flashing across his HUD. He moved a hand to Jazz's aft, pulling the saboteur closer to him while the other hand began to fondle Jazz's wings. Jazz slid his hands from Prowl's face, one sliding over his shoulder to fondle the tactician's doorwings while the other slid down the front of his body to trace the arrow on his pelvic armor. The arrow fascinated Jazz, and Prowl had to admit that it was surprisingly sensitive when his lover traced it so carefully.

Prowl used his greater size to move Jazz onto the berth and cover him, settling himself between the saboteur's thighs. The pressure on Jazz's hips caused him to spread his legs more, allowing Prowl to nestle closer. They both moaned at the sensations running through their bodies, Prowl moving his hand to Jazz's waist to caress the vents there, causing Jazz to howl as his overload slammed through him and triggered Prowl's own overload. His HUD flashed red at him as all systems rebooted.

When he came to, it took several moments for his optics to reboot so he could see. He was still draped over Jazz, whose visor was dark. He framed the saboteur's face and began stroking along the edges of his helm. Jazz moaned and moved his head, pressing closer to the teasing fingers. Prowl moved up and kissed him, slowly deepening the embrace as Jazz responded. Now that the urgency was gone, Prowl intended to take his time with his lover. Jazz's visor lit up as his optical units rebooted and he smiled under Prowl's lips, then moved his glossa up and used it to stroke along the roof of Prowl's mouth, a move that caused Prowl to moan. He moved his hand to the horn of Jazz's helm and it was the saboteur's turn to moan at the sensations.

Prowl's other hand stroked down over Jazz's chest, teasing at the seams there and then moving to a headlight, causing Jazz to arch into the touch. Prowl firmed his strokes, teasing around the rims and dragging his thumb over the glass itself. Jazz cried out and brought his hands up to begin playing with Prowl's body. Prowl bucked against Jazz when his hand moved between Prowl's legs, pressing against the sensors of his groin while his thumb stroked over the arrow. Prowl ground out a static-ey "Jazz!" as the saboteur began working his fingers into the seams of his legs.

"Like that, do you, lover?" Jazz purred at him as his other hand played over Prowl's chest, fingering nodes that caused Prowl to press closer. Jazz parted the armor of his chest, giving Prowl access to his Spark chamber. They had played with each other's Sparks before, and Prowl eagerly moved his hand to the grey chamber nestled deep in Jazz's chest. He gently stroked the sphere, tracing the seams of the chamber and causing Jazz to cry out and his fingers to move deeper in the seams of his legs. Prowl moaned at all the sensations and wrenched his attention back, focusing on parting his own armor. He trembled at the look on Jazz's face as he moved his hand to return the caresses he was receiving. Prowl moved, angling his body so they could align their chests and sent the codes to open his Spark chamber. As the blue glow grew between them, Jazz dipped his fingers into the ball of energy revealed in Prowl's chest. Prowl groaned, feeling rather like an instrument played by a master musician as Jazz combed his fingers through his very being, gently moving through the physical embodiment of Prowl's being.

The tactician eagerly moved his hand aside as Jazz opened his own Spark chamber, then returned to the blue ball when the pieces had irised aside. He gently moved his own fingers over the surface of Jazz's Spark, smiling as Jazz ground out his name. Tendrils of energy wound themselves around his fingers and hands, pulling him deeper into Jazz's essence.

Jazz moved his other hand from between Prowl's legs, choosing to focus on the Spark beckoning him. Prowl was doing the same, removing his hand from Jazz's helm to his chest, curling both hands deep in Jazz's Spark. The wisps of energy were moving further out from their chests, reaching toward each other. The feeling of having one's very being in the hands of his beloved had Prowl almost sobbing, the feeling of being cherished and adored rising almost visibly from Jazz. The tactician began pulling his hands away from the Spark cradled in his hold, getting one hand free and using it to lever himself so their Sparks were as close as possible and the other hand balancing his weight over the saboteur, who had moved his hands away and was clutching at Prowl's shoulders, pulling him closer. The tendrils reached toward each other, knitting their ends together and rapidly thickening until both orbs were suspended between their chambers. Prowl flung his head back as his consciousness was flooded with Jazz's presence, howling his pleasure, Jazz's voice rising to match his.

The spirit of Jazz was like fairy lights, dancing their way through Prowl's consciousness, joy and happiness spreading from their touch. Prowl in turn could feel himself moving deeper into Jazz's psyche, awed by the brilliance of his Spark and the joy that ran as golden threads through the memories and thoughts of his lover. There was a fundamental centeredness to Jazz, a solid confidence in who he was and what he was doing. Prowl was so used to utilizing his logic as a cover for his uncertainty that he was agog at the calmness that grounded Jazz's spirit. He had thought Jazz was the definition of chaos, a sprite that danced his way through life without thought or consideration to the consequences of his actions. It was a shock to find that instead, Jazz was so profoundly sure of himself that he moved through life with a sure deftness, certain that life would fall into place for him.

Jazz, meanwhile, was on his own voyage of discovery through Prowl's thoughts. He touched on Prowl's fear of bonding, stroking it gently and offering his own certainty which was gratefully accepted. He moved deeper, past the shining brilliance of Prowl's dedication to the Autobot cause and Optimus Prime as the representation of the Autobot ideals, down to the earlier memories before the war, before the training in logic and tactics that defined and confined Prowl's mind. Logic ruled Prowl's processor, controlled his impulses, dictated his responses to situations. Prowl always measured his answers, thinking before speaking, measuring probabilities and permutations of situations all the time. Unlike Jazz, who did what felt right, Prowl thought about what was right and responded appropriately. All this control hid a being frightened of making mistakes, afraid to trust himself without the logic that was both tool and crutch. Jazz wrapped himself around Prowl's core, reassuring him of his love and support no matter what happened. Prowl responded, slowly opening himself to Jazz and curling his core around Jazz's core.

Prowl couldn't believe how wonderful bonding felt. He understood now why Jazz had seemed to be so perfect for him; what he lacked, Jazz had in abundance, while he balanced Jazz's deficiencies. Blended, they were now two halves of a whole, each bringing strength to the balance and having strength offered in return. A mutual overload blazed through their bodies, but lost in the mysteries of each other, they continued to explore. Prowl growled into Jazz's shoulder as the saboteur moved one hand off his shoulder and down to his groin. Jazz seemed to enjoy playing with Prowl there, stimulating the sensitive nodes and wires in the seams of his legs. In retaliation, Prowl managed to get one hand on the horn of Jazz's helm. This protrusion was part of the ultra-sensitive sensor net the saboteur used in his job, and he muffled a scream on Prowl's shoulder as the tactician wrapped his hand around the horn and caressed it. The tactician opened his legs further, allowing better access and Jazz took advantage of this freedom almost before Prowl finished moving, cupping his hand between the tactician's legs and using his fingertips to stimulate the armor seams, moving them forward so his thumb could reach the sensitive arrow emblazoned on Prowl's front groin armor. Prowl's hand squeezed the horn as Jazz's thumb reached its destination, and Jazz lost control with another howl muffled on Prowl's shoulder. As the electricity arced along Jazz's body and through his Spark, Prowl groaned as the overload moved into his body. He screamed when Jazz moved his thumb one last time, triggering an overload that shut Prowl's processer down completely.

His processor came to life slowly, stretching out and reveling in the freedom of certainty that infused his whole being. He examined the feeling, an amalgamation of his logic and Jazz's surety, amazed by the beauty of the combination. Slowly, he examined himself, moving out from the center of his being to the constraints of his body. A joy suffused him making everything feel better than it had since the war started. He opened his optics. Somehow, he'd managed to move next to Jazz. Both had their Spark chambers closed although Jazz's armor was still opened. He reached out and stroked the edge of the armor, smiling as Jazz shifted closer to him. Pressing a kiss to Jazz's forehead, he snuggled into the saboteur waiting for him to finish his recharge. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the gift he had intended to give Jazz as soon as they were alone. Events had rather overtaken him, but he couldn't regret how their recharge cycle had gone. Being bonded was…wonderful. It had been scarier anticipating what it would be like. Once bonded, however, he couldn't remember why he'd been so afraid. It was as if he'd shed part of himself, combining his Spark with Jazz's, and had come out on the other side of the experience different enough to not understand his previous self. He found that liberating, in so many ways. Jazz's confidence had suffused him. A thread of joy wove itself into his consciousness, drawing his attention to his bondmate stirring next to him. He followed the thread back to Jazz, bringing his happiness to the fore and projecting it towards the saboteur.


End file.
